


Memory.

by Just_Another



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:40:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another/pseuds/Just_Another
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clarke enters Lexa's room to find her in tears; in which Lexa has feelings she finds a problem but cannot resist acting upon. </p><p> </p><p>Please leave kudos/comments if you like it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory.

**Lexa** strides toward Clarke with such purpose and self confidence that for a moment, Clarke forgets that this is the same woman who, mere moments beforehand, was curled upon her grand, fur-lined bed with warm crystal tears rolling softly down her bronzed cheeks, seeping into the plump feather pillows that surrounded her as she wept.

Really, she forgets everything prior to the moment she feels the connection of Lexa’s lips upon hers, and continues to forget as the young commander’s gentle mouth trails delicate kisses along the outline of her jaw, steadily working her way down to where embellished fabric lays upon her shoulder. Clarke absentmindedly twines strands of Lexa’s dark hair around her slim fingers as her eyes close, and she focuses on nothing but the blissful sensations flying through her system. A feeling of peace she would swear she never knew she could feel.

She forgets everything, for a moment. She forgets the Ark. She forgets the mountain, the losses, and the murder committed by her own trembling hands. She forgets Finn, most of all, because this is Lexa, and Lexa is so much of everything she needs and wants that time stops and her pulse does the opposite. No warring, no death, no fear. No regret. Just Lexa, and Lexa’s lips, and Lexa’s tongue, and Lexa’s hands on Clarke’s defined hips. Her fingertips are dancing over her fiery skin, and Clarke simply forgets, and she’s living in the moment, and she’s _feeling_.

But then Lexa stops, and it’s back, and there’s an army blockading Arkadia and a kill order on anyone who crosses.

And she is Wanheda once again. She is the commander of death.

 

‘’Clarke,’’ Lexa whispers as she distances herself abruptly. ‘’Please… forgive me.’’

She bows her head before the blonde, wide eyes dropping to the floor, words laden with shame. The sky girl had been there to comfort her, worried by her uncharacteristic upset. She had spoken to her so kindly, wrapped her arms around her and taken Lexa’s bloodied hand in her own as she attempted to compose herself. Now, in her mind, she had shown weakness not only in allowing another to see her cry, but through a stark display of lust, too. 

Perhaps the clans had every right to doubt her strength. Why should her people trust her to lead bravely, when she could no longer trust herself not to act upon impulse? What was it about Clarke that caused her such difficulty in focusing on her tasks; that made her vulnerable to the human emotions, the urges and desires she had worked so tirelessly to conceal? 

And why, now, stood before her still in silence, were these ocean-deep eyes and gently curved lips setting her heart alight, and in searching gazes begging her only for _more_?

‘’Lexa,’’ Clarke breathes. She steps forward, raises a hand to wrap tentatively around the back of the commander’s tense neck, instantly feels muscles relax under her touch. Her softly quivering lips do the same as their mouths are suddenly colliding over and over again, fueled this time by urgency and desperation; harder, faster, deeper, with none of the gentle caution of before, simply more and more and _more_. 

And it's during this time that Lexa realises, as her hands grasp feverishly where they roam and Clarke pulls her to lay upon her bed, that in this moment she doesn't care about weakness and war. 

Clarke is all she wants. 

And Clarke is all she needs to help her forget.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple of months ago, and the finale brought me back to it- right now this is all it is -short- and i'm pretty happy with it, but i'm open to trying to develop it into an actual multi-chapter if people like the feel of it enough. I'm bad at sticking to and finishing things, though... so perhaps a one-shot series would be better. And I don't want to put out any mediocre Clexa work; they/you deserve better than that. 
> 
> If you'd like more, or have any suggestions, feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Thankyou :)


End file.
